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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24574684">Under The Table.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Glee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blow Jobs, Boypussy Kurt, Cunnilingus, Husbands, M/M, Oral Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:27:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,839</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24574684</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine was a little more open about his physical affection in the company of other people, but he was usually classier than a blowjob under the table where seven of their friends sat. </p><p>Usually.</p><p>(bp!Kurt version in chapter two.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>128</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Weekly Sunday game night was one of Santana’s finer ideas, a tradition Kurt hoped their group of friends never stopped. The gathering, which alternated between homes, consisted of whoever could find time in their schedule that week and occasionally friends like Quinn or Sam, if they were in town.</p><p>It was similar to Monday night potluck, which tragically never returned after they all made it back to the city the second time. The evening usually started out with a delicious dinner, followed undoubtedly by singing, and then games.</p><p>Kurt discouraged drinking during their game nights as much as possible. For one, he and Blaine had to return home to their daughter Tracy, and Kurt would drop dead before he would allow him or (especially) Blaine to be drunk around their child.</p><p>And secondly, while Blaine’s tolerance for alcohol increased the older he got, it still didn’t take much to get him worked up and he got particularly handsy with Kurt when he was drunk. As kinky as Kurt could be, voyeurism wasn’t something he usually indulged in.</p><p>Kurt knew that tonight though, no matter how much he protested, there would be drinking. Not only was Sam in town for the weekend, but Mercedes was in New York for her tour and just happened to have a night off. Rachel miraculously didn’t have a show tonight, meaning she would be there for the first time in months.</p><p>It was too good to be true. Almost the entire McKinley gang would be together.</p><p>Kurt had graciously volunteered to hold the party at the Anderson-Hummel household. If anything was to be said about Blaine and Kurt after they got married, it was that they knew how to host a party. After Kurt told Blaine the party would be at their apartment, Blaine smartly suggested that Maria, his boss, would watch Tracy at her house for the night.</p><p>Kurt made most of the food, which was divine and evoked endless teasing from Blaine that he was wasting his life in fashion because he was <em>obviously</em> born to be a chef.</p><p>They ate dinner, exchanging stories and catching up and it wasn’t long before Rachel found their Sondheim piano book and demanded they have a sing a long, dragging Blaine by his shirt collar to the piano.</p><p>They sang for a while before Santana declared she would jump out their window and into the oncoming New York traffic if she had to sing another song from “<em>Into The Woods</em>”, leading the group to break out the cards and beer and start the games.</p><p>Kurt and Blaine sat at opposite heads of the table, with Rachel, Sam, Tina, and Brittany on one side, and Artie, Santana, and Mercedes on the other.</p><p>Sam passed the beers around the table and Kurt rolled his eyes when Blaine took two. He waved his hand dismissively when Sam handed one to him.</p><p>“Oh come on, Hummel,” Santana sneered. “Don’t tell me being a parent has turned you into a lifeless ass.” The girls around the table snickered and Kurt shot Blaine a glare when he heard a small laugh escape him.</p><p>“I’m not a lifeless ass, Santana. I’ve never been much of a drinker, not since Santa almost raped me,” he shuddered, remembering that less than delightful experience.</p><p>“Rape my ass, Kurt. You totally wanted Santa all up in you,” Rachel slurred, clearly already buzzed.</p><p>“Dear God, Rachel,” Blaine muttered. “Let’s start the game, shall we?”</p><p>“Oh hell no!” Mercedes objected. “Not unless Kurt agrees to drink!”</p><p>There was a chorus of agreement as Kurt put his hands over his face and let out an exasperated sigh.</p><p>“Fine!” He said. “I’ll drink, but only if I lose.” The heads around the table nodded in agreement. “What are we even playing anyway?”</p><p>“Slapjack,” Tina said gleefully and Kurt gave her his best perfected bitch face. “Which means every time you don’t get the cards, you have to drink!”</p><p>“Objection!” Artie yelled. “I vote that everyone who doesn’t get the cards has to drink! Only one person each round will be safe!”</p><p>Kurt rolled his eyes and sighed. This sounded like a recipe for utter disaster. Going at this rate they would all be lost causes soon, and he really didn’t need eight drunk adults throwing up on his hardwood floors.</p><p>What the group didn’t know, or had rather forgotten, was that Kurt was the master of slapjack. He was determined to win the cards every time, if only to prove a point to the rest of the group.</p><p>Brittany started flipping cards off the top of the deck and the group waited anxiously with their hands hovered until finally the first jack was flipped.</p><p>Kurt slapped the table so hard his palm stung and he gouged his fingernails into Sam’s hand.</p><p>“Christ, Kurt!” Sam exclaimed, grabbing his hand in distress. Kurt smirked.</p><p>“I believe that means everyone has to drink,” he mocked. “Except for me, of course.” </p><p>Blaine smiled and shook his head fondly at him as the rest of the group rolled their eyes and took their obligatory losing shots.</p><p>After eight more rounds of Kurt violently slapping the table (seriously he was the <em>king</em> of slapjack), Kurt started to realize how fantastically flawed his strategy of victory was.</p><p>Every time he won meant he didn’t have to drink, but it meant that Blaine did. </p><p>And Blaine was never one to take moderate sized sips of beer.</p><p>He watched as his friends slowly unwound in front of him, the volume of their laughter increasing and their motions so sloppy that eventually Kurt was the only one who could actually slap the cards even though everyone was trying with valiant effort.</p><p>He was about to suggest they switch games when he looked across the table and locked eyes with Blaine.</p><p>Kurt knew the lustful look on his face all too well. Blaine’s eyes were pooled dark, his pupils blown wide, his plump lips hung open. He was staring at Kurt as if he was the most delicious thing he had ever seen, practically drooling.</p><p>His husband looked like he was about to fucking <em>devour</em> him.</p><p>Jesus, what had Kurt done?</p><p>He was so focused on Blaine that he missed the next jack being flipped.</p><p>“Eat shit, Hummel!” Santana screeched as she almost fell over the table grabbing the cards. The whole table cheered loudly and began chanting Kurt’s name. Brittany even threw an empty beer can at Kurt’s head.</p><p>“Bitch,” Kurt mumbled under his breath as he took his first shot of the whole night to a chorus of slurred cheers and laughter. After that, no one made any move to continue the game, as if getting Kurt to drink was the only goal anyone was actually playing for.</p><p>Kurt looked over to find Blaine staring at him intently again. He raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him and watched as Blaine pulled out his phone. He slowly started typing a message, fingers fumbling sloppily as his eyebrows furrowed in more concentration than Kurt reasoned was required to type a text message. </p><p>Kurt rolled his eyes. With the state Blaine was in, it would be a good five minutes before a text from Blaine would actually appear on his phone.</p><p>The game shifted into an intense conversation about the best kinds of boobs, led enthusiastically by Santana and Sam. God, even if Kurt <em>were</em> drunk he wouldn’t want to listen to any of this. Instead he watched Blaine poke around on his keyboard until finally he felt his pocket buzz.</p><p>He pulled out his phone to find a message from Blaine.</p><p>
  <em>
    <b>you are so fuckinj hot</b>
  </em>
</p><p>Followed by;</p><p>
  <em>
    <b>been hard all night just looking at u</b>
  </em>
</p><p>His husband really was the most eloquent of individuals.</p><p>Kurt felt an itchy warmth spread hot to the touch across his cheeks and trickling down his neck. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair as his traitorous cock gave an interested twitch at Blaine’s words and the hungry gaze of his scorching eyes that were practically undressing Kurt from across the table. Really, why did he wear his tightest jeans today?</p><p>He gave Blaine a stern warning look. Blaine shot him back a toothy grin and licked his lips.</p><p>Dear. <em>Fucking</em>. God.</p><p>He felt his phone buzz again and choked when he read the next message.</p><p>
  <em>
    <b>gonna blow u under the table like right now</b>
  </em>
</p><p>He looked up at Blaine and mouthed a forceful, borderline pleading “<em>don’t you dare</em>”, though every inch of his body sung quite a different tune. Blood rushed fast and dizzying to his swelling erection which pulsed and fattened, thick and heavy trapped against the seam of his pants.</p><p>Blaine was a little more open about his physical affection in the company of other people, but he was usually classier than a blowjob under the table where seven of their friends sat. Usually.</p><p>Then again, Blaine’s common sense flew miles off the handle when he was drunk. Kurt knew this from <em>several</em> previous experiences.</p><p>Kurt’s ears grew burning hot as Blaine licked his lips again. He shook his head fervently, but Blaine was already leaning down, pretending to pick something up before he slid off his chair and under the table.</p><p>The group was so focused on their conversation that nobody even noticed Blaine disappear.</p><p>Kurt’s heart jack hammered frantically against his chest, his cock straining harder now as he fixed his gaze on a random point on the table and waited, waited, waited, until finally he felt strong, warm hands sliding up his calves.</p><p>He jumped a little in his chair and stifled the moan that threatened to slip through his lips. Blaine ran his hands drunkenly up and down Kurt’s legs, ticklish and massaging, fingertips traveling higher and higher with each journey up until Blaine moved his hands to stroke the inside of Kurt’s thighs.</p><p>Kurt squawked when he suddenly felt Blaine’s hot mouth sucking at his thighs through the fabric of his jeans. His face flushed, legs spreading and body trying to rock further into Blaine’s mouth, to get more of the wet, blazing heat where he throbbed for it.</p><p>Tina looked over at him questionably.</p><p>“Sorry.. Uh.. st-stubbed my toe,” Kurt muttered lamely, shifting in his seat as he felt Blaine’s mouth move further up his legs, his hot breath ghosting over the delicate junction between Kurt’s leg and groin, the warm air stimulating Kurt’s sensitive bulge in the most irritating way.</p><p>It wasn’t nearly enough.</p><p>Blaine tickled his ankles as he sucked, such a goddamn tease, winding Kurt tighter and tighter with need and desperation, keeping him on edge but nowhere near satisfied, aching all over.</p><p>Kurt was going to positively murder him after this.</p><p>His vision went fuzzy as he focused all his efforts into keeping his body’s movements under complete control, biting back moans and squeezing the edges of his chair with bright white knuckles. The conversation carried on, seemingly oblivious to Blaine's existence between Kurt's legs under the table, and Kurt contemplated taking matters into his own hands if Blaine didn’t get to the point in the next thirty seconds. He wrapped his hands in thick curls and tugged to get his message across.</p><p>Those beautiful, thick, luscious curls…</p><p>He felt Blaine smile against his leg and then he giggled--<em>giggled</em>, the little shit-- before he immediately placed his mouth over Kurt’s bulge and sucked hard at his cock through his clothes.</p><p>The suction on his aching hard cock felt like heavenly, breath-heaving relief, igniting a spark of pleasure straight up Kurt's spine. He groaned loudly at the sudden contact. Luckily, no one heard him over the conversation which had now shifted to some other topic-- though what topic, Kurt had not the faintest idea.</p><p>All he could focus on was Blaine mouthing wetly at him through his pants.</p><p>There were still too many damn layers. He needed his husband’s dirty, wet mouth on his bare cock and he needed it <em>now</em>, friends at the table and everything else in the world be damned.</p><p>He tugged Blaine’s hair again, harder this time, and Blaine poked his head out slightly from under the table to catch Kurt’s zipper between his teeth and drag it down stitch by stitch. Fluid dribbled from the head of Kurt’s stiff cock at the sight of it, leaking sticky and wet into his damp briefs.</p><p>After he was fully hidden by the table again, Blaine finally fished Kurt’s pulsing erection out of his underwear and lifted him, hooking Kurt's briefs down under his balls and jacking his exposed cock vertical, then just lazily stroking him for a few minutes, fist loosely dancing up and down the velvety skin of Kurt’s cock. The light pressure made Kurt squirm restlessly as he tried to focus on what his friends were saying and not the burning in his thighs.</p><p>Kurt Hummel was a lot of things, but a patient man was not one of them, and his husband knew that better than anyone. Kurt couldn’t fathom why Blaine picked now, of all times, to tease Kurt practically to tears, unless he was purposely seeking the unbridled hell of Kurt’s wrath he would unleash on him later.</p><p>He was about to tug on Blaine’s hair again when all of the sudden his entire cock was enveloped in the wet heat of Blaine’s mouth as Blaine deepthroated him, pushing his nose to nestle in Kurt's pubic hair and sucking hungrily at Kurt’s cock like his life depended on it.</p><p>A moan tore out of his throat, vibrating up his chest without restraint-- and damn those hardwood floors because it practically echoed around the room.</p><p>“<em>Fuck</em>, Blaine!” he yelped, his back arching sensually, pulled like a puppet on a string and completely unaware that he was even speaking. Blaine sucked obscenely loud as he bobbed his head up and down Kurt’s spit-slicked length, licking under the bulbous head every time he came up and moaning like a whore.</p><p>Kurt’s fingers sunk deeper into his hair, twining around curls as he guided the motion of his husband's head. He was lost in the blissful lull of pleasure, his mouth stuck open, his eyes screwed shut as scalding, tight heat traveled up and down the shaft of his cock, Blaine’s slippery mouth and smooth tongue skillfully working him over.</p><p>It was a few minutes before it suddenly dawned on Kurt that they were not alone. His eyes shot open in abrupt panic. The entire group was looking at him, eyes owlish wide and dead silent.</p><p>“Oh. My. God!” Tina yelled, her hands flying over her mouth. “Is Blaine <em>blowing</em> you under the table?” she shrieked.</p><p>“SHH!” Brittany and Rachel, and (un)surprisingly Sam, simultaneously shushed Tina. They stared at Kurt in awe, completely captivated by the erotic sight in front of them.</p><p>“Get it Hummel!” Santana laughed. Somehow Kurt felt his face grow even blistering hotter than it was already as sweat collected around his hairline.</p><p>“Can you please--” he groaned through his teeth as Blaine lapped at his gaping slit and looked up at him with stupidly innocent hazel eyes, pink tongue licking slowly. “Can you please stop staring?” he spat at his friends.</p><p>Blaine made the most pornographic sounding slurp Kurt had ever heard as he pulled off his cock and jerked him quickly, a line of shiny spit connecting to his cherry red, swollen lips and his long eyelashes flashing a devilish wink at Kurt. Kurt attempted to glare down at him, but ended up biting his bottom lip hard and squeezing his eyes shut as Blaine twisted his wrist on an upstroke and swiped his thumb over the head of Kurt's cock.</p><p>“Good lord,” Mercedes groaned, covering her eyes. “I really do not want to see this.”</p><p>“Yeah, come on guys,” Artie agreed, his throat bobbing. “Let’s give them a little uh... privacy.”</p><p>“Fuck no,” Santana called. “You and your kinky ass husband started this show, dough face. Now we’re expecting you to finish it.”</p><p>Kurt tried to form some snarky remark, but truthfully, he begrudgingly kind of agreed with Santana. </p><p>He was so close, his balls drawn up tight and full and aching heavy. It would take him seconds to snap, toes already curled tightly and a pressure sharp heat filling low in his stomach, clenched right on the edge of relief.</p><p>As much as he didn’t want all of his friends to watch his flushed red face as he orgasmed, he needed Blaine to continue, to finish what he started, or Kurt had no issues with filing for divorce immediately. </p><p>“Put your mouth back on me,” he hissed down at Blaine, who smirked at him, slapping the wide girth of Kurt’s wet cock languidly against his cheek with hooded eyes, smearing weeping pre come across his plump lips.</p><p>“Can Blaine deepthroat?” Santana asked conversationally, leaning forward in an engaged manner, as if she wanted nothing more than to know the answer to her question about the fascinating spectacle in front of her.</p><p>Blaine moved from doing positively nothing to sucking the entire length of Kurt back into his throat, the head of Kurt’s cock hitting the back of his twitching throat, swallowing around him as Kurt doubled over, clutching the table in front of him.</p><p>“I’ll take that as a yes.”</p><p>“I swear to God, Santana,” Kurt snapped, a blush flushing hotly down his neck. His hips canted upward reflexively, fucking steadily into Blaine’s slack mouth.</p><p>“Tell me Kurt, who bottoms?” Santana smirked, and Kurt didn’t know tonight as going to turn into a Q and A about his and Blaine’s sex life, but apparently his filters were off as Blaine traced a bulging vein on the underside of Kurt’s cock with the tip of his tongue.</p><p>“We switch,” he groaned, mouth talking against his will.</p><p>“Told you!” Sam yelled loudly, pointing around the table at various people, a few of which fished money out of their pockets to hand to him with an eye roll.</p><p>“Wait a minute, you --<em>fuck, Blaine, ungh</em>-- you guys have a bet going about who bottoms?”</p><p>“Oh Kurt, sweetie, that’s been going on since junior year of glee club,” Mercedes answered with an amused chuckle.</p><p>“I--<em>oh god, there, Blaine.</em> I hate all of you,” Kurt moaned in embarrassment, and thankfully Blaine finally took pity on him and doubled all of his efforts after that, head bobbing fast and tongue caressing, slurping up the length of Kurt’s cock to give a powerful suck to the head that pulled Kurt’s orgasm straight out of his balls, spilling into Blaine’s eager mouth and shooting pearly spurts as Blaine licked in sweeping motions under the crown of his cock.</p><p>Kurt tried not to be too vocal as he rode out his orgasm, the pleasure whip lashing across his body and tipping his head back in pure ecstasy, but he couldn’t hold back his high whine as Blaine kept sucking at him, swallowing down wave after wave of release with a ravenous, noisy throat, like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.</p><p>“Oh, <em>shit, Blaine, fuck, fuck fuck, ungh oh-- yes</em>.”</p><p>His cock slid out of Blaine’s mouth, thrusting up and sliding against his cheek, wet and swollen purple and beginning to soften, and it was only when Kurt slumped back against his chair, body floating with bliss and chest heaving, that Santana started clapping slowly with a smirk.</p><p>“Damn, lady gay, I gotta hand it to you. Even as a lesbian that was fucking hot.”</p><p>Kurt glanced around the table, taking in every shocked face breathlessly as Blaine tucked him back into his pants clumsily and zipped him up.</p><p>“Not a word,” he pointed sternly at each of them, glaring as he stood on wobbly legs. “And you,” he snapped his fingers sharply. The resounding giggle from out of sight let him know that Blaine was precisely aware of what was in store for him. “Follow me. You’re in trouble. The rest of you do whatever the hell you want, I don’t care.”</p><p>Kurt turned and headed toward the bedroom, not surprised when he heard the scramble of Blaine clambering out from under the table and following suit not two seconds later.</p><p>As far as punishments went, Kurt was plotting to give Blaine the ride of his fucking life.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. bp!Kurt version</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I added the same story but with boypussy cause ya know... porn :)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Weekly Sunday game night was one of Santana’s finer ideas, a tradition Kurt hoped their group of friends never stopped. The gathering, which alternated between homes, consisted of whoever could find time in their schedule that week and occasionally friends like Quinn or Sam, if they were in town.</p><p>It was similar to Monday night potluck, which tragically never returned after they all made it back to the city the second time. The evening usually started out with a delicious dinner, followed undoubtedly by singing, and then games.</p><p>Kurt discouraged drinking during their game nights as much as possible. For one, he and Blaine had to return home to their daughter Tracy, and Kurt would drop dead before he would allow him or (especially) Blaine to be drunk around their child.</p><p>And secondly, while Blaine’s tolerance for alcohol increased the older he got, it still didn’t take much to get him worked up and he got particularly handsy with Kurt when he was drunk. As kinky as Kurt could be, voyeurism wasn’t something he usually indulged in.</p><p>Kurt knew that tonight though, no matter how much he protested, there would be drinking. Not only was Sam in town for the weekend, but Mercedes was in New York for her tour and just happened to have a night off. Rachel miraculously didn’t have a show tonight, meaning she would be there for the first time in months.</p><p>It was too good to be true. Almost the entire McKinley gang would be together.</p><p>Kurt had graciously volunteered to hold the party at the Anderson-Hummel household. If anything was to be said about Blaine and Kurt after they got married, it was that they knew how to host a party. After Kurt told Blaine the party would be at their apartment, Blaine smartly suggested that Maria, his boss, would watch Tracy at her house for the night.</p><p>Kurt made most of the food, which was divine and evoked endless teasing from Blaine that he was wasting his life in fashion because he was <em>obviously</em> born to be a chef.</p><p>They ate dinner, exchanging stories and catching up and it wasn’t long before Rachel found their Sondheim piano book and demanded they have a sing a long, dragging Blaine by his shirt collar to the piano.</p><p>They sang for a while before Santana declared she would jump out their window and into the oncoming New York traffic if she had to sing another song from “<em>Into The Woods</em>”, leading the group to break out the cards and beer and start the games.</p><p>Kurt and Blaine sat at opposite heads of the table, with Rachel, Sam, Tina, and Brittany on one side, and Artie, Santana, and Mercedes on the other.</p><p>Sam passed the beers around the table and Kurt rolled his eyes when Blaine took two. He waved his hand dismissively when Sam handed one to him.</p><p>“Oh come on, Hummel,” Santana sneered. “Don’t tell me being a parent has turned you into a lifeless ass.” The girls around the table snickered and Kurt shot Blaine a glare when he heard a small laugh escape him.</p><p>“I’m not a lifeless ass, Santana. I’ve never been much of a drinker, not since Santa almost raped me,” he shuddered, remembering that less than delightful experience.</p><p>“Rape my ass, Kurt. You totally wanted Santa all up in you,” Rachel slurred, clearly already buzzed.</p><p>“Dear God, Rachel,” Blaine muttered. “Let’s start the game, shall we?”</p><p>“Oh hell no!” Mercedes objected. “Not unless Kurt agrees to drink!”</p><p>There was a chorus of agreement as Kurt put his hands over his face and let out an exasperated sigh.</p><p>“Fine!” He said. “I’ll drink, but only if I lose.” The heads around the table nodded in agreement. “What are we even playing anyway?”</p><p>“Slapjack,” Tina said gleefully and Kurt gave her his best perfected bitch face. “Which means every time you don’t get the cards, you have to drink!”</p><p>“Objection!” Artie yelled. “I vote that everyone who doesn’t get the cards has to drink! Only one person each round will be safe!”</p><p>Kurt rolled his eyes and sighed. This sounded like a recipe for utter disaster. Going at this rate they would all be lost causes soon, and he really didn’t need eight drunk adults throwing up on his hardwood floors.</p><p>What the group didn’t know, or had rather forgotten, was that Kurt was the master of slapjack. He was determined to win the cards every time, if only to prove a point to the rest of the group.</p><p>Brittany started flipping cards off the top of the deck and the group waited anxiously with their hands hovered until finally the first jack was flipped.</p><p>Kurt slapped the table so hard his palm stung and he gouged his fingernails into Sam’s hand.</p><p>“Christ, Kurt!” Sam exclaimed, grabbing his hand in distress. Kurt smirked.</p><p>“I believe that means everyone has to drink,” he mocked. “Except for me, of course.”</p><p>Blaine smiled and shook his head fondly at him as the rest of the group rolled their eyes and took their obligatory losing shots.</p><p>After eight more rounds of Kurt violently slapping the table (seriously he was the <em>king</em> of slapjack), Kurt started to realize how fantastically flawed his strategy of victory was.</p><p>Every time he won meant he didn’t have to drink, but it meant that Blaine did.</p><p>And Blaine was never one to take moderate sized sips of beer.</p><p>He watched as his friends slowly unwound in front of him, the volume of their laughter increasing and their motions so sloppy that eventually Kurt was the only one who could actually slap the cards even though everyone was trying with valiant effort.</p><p>He was about to suggest they switch games when he looked across the table and locked eyes with Blaine.</p><p>Kurt knew the lustful look on his face all too well. Blaine’s eyes were pooled dark, his pupils blown wide, his plump lips hung open. He was staring at Kurt as if he was the most delicious thing he had ever seen, practically drooling.</p><p>His husband looked like he was about to fucking <em>devour</em> him.</p><p>Jesus, what had Kurt done?</p><p>He was so focused on Blaine that he missed the next jack being flipped.</p><p>“Eat shit, Hummel!” Santana screeched as she almost fell over the table grabbing the cards. The whole table cheered loudly and began chanting Kurt’s name. Brittany even threw an empty beer can at Kurt’s head.</p><p>“Bitch,” Kurt mumbled under his breath as he took his first shot of the whole night to a chorus of slurred cheers and laughter. After that, no one made any move to continue the game, as if getting Kurt to drink was the only goal anyone was actually playing for.</p><p>Kurt looked over to find Blaine staring at him intently again. He raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him and watched as Blaine pulled out his phone. He slowly started typing a message, fingers fumbling sloppily as his eyebrows furrowed in more concentration than Kurt reasoned was required to type a text message.</p><p>Kurt rolled his eyes. With the state Blaine was in, it would be a good five minutes before a text from Blaine would actually appear on his phone.</p><p>The game shifted into an intense conversation about the best kinds of boobs, led enthusiastically by Santana and Sam. God, even if Kurt <em>were</em> drunk he wouldn’t want to listen to any of this. Instead he watched Blaine poke around on his keyboard until finally he felt his pocket buzz.</p><p>He pulled out his phone to find a message from Blaine.</p><p>
  <em>
    <b>you are so fuckinj hot</b>
  </em>
</p><p>Followed by;</p><p>
  <em>
    <b>been hard all night just looking at u</b>
  </em>
</p><p>His husband really was the most eloquent of individuals.</p><p>Kurt felt an itchy warmth spread hot to the touch across his cheeks and trickling down his neck. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair as his traitorous pussy gave an interested pulse at Blaine’s words and the hungry gaze of his scorching eyes that were practically undressing Kurt from across the table.</p><p>He gave Blaine a stern warning look. Blaine shot him back a toothy grin and licked his lips.</p><p>Dear. <em>Fucking</em>. God.</p><p>He felt his phone buzz again and choked when he read the next message.</p><p>
  <em>
    <b>gonna eat u out under the table like right now</b>
  </em>
</p><p>He looked up at Blaine and mouthed a forceful, borderline pleading “<em>don’t you dare</em>”, though every inch of his body sung quite a different tune. He felt himself leak into his panties, fluid gushing wet and sticky.</p><p>Blaine was a little more open about his physical affection in the company of other people, but he was usually classier than eating Kurt out under the table where seven of their friends sat. Usually.</p><p>Then again, Blaine’s common sense flew miles off the handle when he was drunk. Kurt knew this from <em>several</em> previous experiences.</p><p>Kurt’s ears grew burning hot as Blaine licked his lips again. He shook his head fervently, but Blaine was already leaning down, pretending to pick something up before he slid off his chair and under the table.</p><p>The group was so focused on their conversation that nobody even noticed Blaine disappear.</p><p>Kurt’s heart jack hammered frantically against his chest, pussy slicking wetter now and heartbeat throbbing in his clit as he fixed his gaze on a random point on the table and waited, waited, waited, until finally he felt strong, warm hands sliding up his calves.</p><p>He jumped a little in his chair and stifled the moan that threatened to slip through his lips. Blaine ran his hands drunkenly up and down Kurt’s legs, ticklish and massaging, fingertips traveling higher and higher with each journey up until Blaine moved his hands to stroke the inside of Kurt’s thighs.</p><p>Kurt squawked when he suddenly felt Blaine’s hot mouth sucking at his thighs through the fabric of his jeans. His face flushed, legs spreading wide and body trying to rock further into Blaine’s mouth, to get more of the wet, blazing heat where he throbbed for it.</p><p>Tina looked over at him questionably.</p><p>“Sorry.. Uh.. st-stubbed my toe,” Kurt muttered lamely, shifting in his seat as he felt Blaine’s mouth move further up his legs, his hot breath ghosting over the delicate junction between Kurt’s leg and groin, the warm air stimulating Kurt’s sensitive, jean clad pussy lips in the most irritating way.</p><p>It wasn’t nearly enough.</p><p>Blaine tickled his ankles as he sucked, such a goddamn tease, winding Kurt tighter and tighter with need and desperation, keeping him on edge but nowhere near satisfied, aching all over.</p><p>Kurt was going to positively murder him after this.</p><p>His vision went fuzzy as he focused all his efforts into keeping his body’s movements under complete control, biting back moans and squeezing the edges of his chair with bright white knuckles. The conversation carried on, seemingly oblivious to Blaine's existence between Kurt's legs under the table, and Kurt contemplated taking matters into his own hands if Blaine didn’t get to the point in the next thirty seconds. He wrapped his hands in thick curls and tugged to get his message across.</p><p>Those beautiful, thick, luscious curls…</p><p>He felt Blaine smile against his leg and then he giggled--<em>giggled</em>, the little shit-- before he immediately placed his mouth over Kurt’s crotch and sucked hard at his pussy through his clothes.</p><p>The suction on his aching, sopping pussy felt like heavenly, breath-heaving relief, igniting a spark of pleasure straight up Kurt's spine. He groaned loudly at the sudden contact. Luckily, no one heard him over the conversation which had now shifted to some other topic-- though what topic, Kurt had not the faintest idea.</p><p>All he could focus on was Blaine mouthing wetly at him through his pants.</p><p>There were still too many damn layers. He needed his husband’s dirty, wet mouth on his bare pussy and he needed it <em>now</em>, friends at the table and everything else in the world be damned.</p><p>He tugged Blaine’s hair again, harder this time, and Blaine poked his head out slightly from under the table to catch Kurt’s zipper between his teeth and drag it down stitch by stitch. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of Kurt’s pants, and Kurt raised his hips up as Blaine pulled his jeans down to just below his knees.</p><p>After he was fully hidden by the table again, Blaine finally pushed Kurt’s thighs apart as wide as he could with the constraint of his pants and buried his face in Kurt’s pussy, laving his tongue up and down Kurt’s thin panties, soaking the already wet fabric with Kurt’s juices and his own spit. The light pressure made Kurt squirm restlessly as he tried to focus on what his friends were saying and not the burning in his thighs.</p><p>Kurt Hummel was a lot of things, but a patient man was not one of them, and his husband knew that better than anyone. Kurt couldn’t fathom why Blaine picked now, of all times, to tease Kurt practically to tears, unless he was purposely seeking the unbridled hell of Kurt’s wrath he would unleash on him later.</p><p>He was about to tug on Blaine’s hair again when all of the sudden his panties were pushed out of the way, cool air blasting over his throbbing folds, and Blaine sucked Kurt’s stiff clit straight into his mouth, sucking on it in fluttering pulses. </p><p>A moan tore out of his throat, vibrating up his chest without restraint-- and damn those hardwood floors because it practically echoed around the room.</p><p>“<em>Fuck</em>, Blaine!” he yelped, his back arching sensually and thighs squeezing shut around Blaine’s head, body pulled like a puppet on a string. He was completely unaware that he was even speaking. Blaine sucked obscenely loud as he kept Kurt’s clit pulled tight between his lips, flicking his tongue fast right under the hood and moaning like a whore.</p><p>Kurt’s fingers sunk deeper into his hair, twining around curls as he mashed his husband's head against his cunt. He was lost in the blissful pleasure, his mouth stuck open, his eyes screwed shut as the heat of Blaine’s mouth ate at his blushing pussy, sloppily licking up his spreading folds and dripping liquid down his cheeks into a puddle on the chair.</p><p>It was a few minutes before it suddenly dawned on Kurt that they were not alone. His eyes shot open in abrupt panic. The entire group was looking at him, eyes owlish wide and dead silent.</p><p>“Oh. My. God!” Tina yelled, her hands flying over her mouth. “Is Blaine <em>eating you out</em> under the table?” she shrieked.</p><p>“SHH!” Brittany and Rachel, and (un)surprisingly Sam, simultaneously shushed Tina. They stared at Kurt in awe, completely captivated by the erotic sight in front of them.</p><p>“Get it Hummel!” Santana laughed. Somehow Kurt felt his face grow even blistering hotter than it was already as sweat collected around his hairline.</p><p>“Can you please--” he groaned through his teeth as Blaine nosed lower to lap at his drooling hole and looked up at him with stupidly innocent hazel eyes, pink tongue fucking in slowly. “Can you please stop staring?” he spat at his friends.</p><p>Blaine made the most pornographic sounding slurp Kurt had ever heard as he pulled back from Kurt’s pussy and thumbed over his clit slowly, a line of shiny spit connecting to his cherry red, swollen lips and his long eyelashes flashing a devilish wink at Kurt. Kurt attempted to glare down at him, but ended up biting his bottom lip hard and squeezing his eyes shut as Blaine’s thumb started to fly over his clit and he sunk his pointer finger, thick and stretching, into Kurt’s hole.</p><p>“Good lord,” Mercedes groaned, covering her eyes. “I really do not want to see this.”</p><p>“Yeah, come on guys,” Artie agreed, his throat bobbing. “Let’s give them a little uh... privacy.”</p><p>“Fuck no,” Santana called. “You and your kinky ass husband started this show, dough face. Now we’re expecting you to finish it.”</p><p>Kurt tried to form some snarky remark, but truthfully, he begrudgingly kind of agreed with Santana.</p><p>He was so close, thighs trembling and pussy clenching around Blaine’s finger. It would take him seconds to snap, toes already curled tightly and a pressure sharp heat filling low in his stomach, clenched right on the edge of relief.</p><p>As much as he didn’t want all of his friends to watch his flushed red face as he orgasmed, he needed Blaine to continue, to finish what he started, or Kurt had no issues with filing for divorce immediately.</p><p>“Put your mouth back on me,” he hissed down at Blaine, who smirked at him, pulling his shiny fingers to his mouth and sucking Kurt’s wetness off of them.</p><p>“Can Blaine make you squirt?” Santana asked conversationally, leaning forward in an engaged manner, as if she wanted nothing more than to know the answer to her question about the fascinating spectacle in front of her.</p><p>Blaine moved from doing positively nothing to pounding two fingers back into Kurt’s pussy and licking fast at his clit, pulling Kurt’s fat pussy lip open with the thumb of his hand that was holding his panties out of the way. Kurt doubled over, clutching the table in front of him.</p><p>“Damn, I’m guessing he probably can from that reaction.”</p><p>“I swear to God, Santana,” Kurt snapped, a blush flushing hotly down his neck. His hips canted upward reflexively, grinding his pussy on Blaine’s mouth.</p><p>“Seriously though, are you a squirter, Kurt?” Santana smirked, and Kurt didn’t know tonight as going to turn into a Q and A about his and Blaine’s sex life, but apparently his filters were off as Blaine traced the edges of Kurt’s swollen labia with the tip of his tongue.</p><p>“Yes,” he groaned, mouth talking against his will.</p><p>“Told you!” Sam yelled loudly, pointing around the table at various people, a few of which fished money out of their pockets to hand to him with an eye roll.</p><p>“Wait a minute, you --<em>fuck, Blaine, ungh</em>-- you guys have a bet going about me being able to squirt?”</p><p>“Oh Kurt, sweetie, that’s been going on since junior year of glee club,” Mercedes answered with an amused chuckle.</p><p>“I--<em>oh god, right there, Blaine</em>. I hate all of you,” Kurt moaned in embarrassment, and thankfully Blaine finally took pity on him and doubled all of his efforts after that, licking broad and fast at Kurt’s clit and curling his thrusting fingers upward to find that spot inside of Kurt that made his stomach twist and stars appear bright behind his eyelids. Kurt’s orgasm rushed through him, body shaking and fluid gushing into Blaine’s eager mouth.</p><p>Kurt tried not to be too vocal as he rode out his orgasm, the pleasure whip lashing across his body and tipping his head back in pure ecstasy, but he couldn’t hold back his high whine as Blaine kept sucking hard at his clit and fucking into him with relentless fingers until there was a gush of arching fluid that forced his fingers out and Kurt squirted, spraying all over Blaine’s neck and chin and soaking over his thighs.</p><p>“Oh, <em>shit, Blaine, fuck, fuck fuck, ungh oh-- yes</em>.”</p><p>Blaine pulled back from his pussy and rubbed his hand at lightning speed over Kurt’s clit and it was only a second before Kurt was moaning loud again, smaller spurts of fluid squirting from his pussy over Blaine’s waiting lips in a second orgasm. He pushed Blaine’s head away when he began to throb in over sensitivity. When Kurt finally slumped back against his chair, body floating with bliss and chest heaving, Santana started clapping slowly with a smirk.</p><p>“Damn, lady gay, I gotta hand it to you. As a lesbian that was fucking hot.”</p><p>Kurt glanced around the table, taking in every shocked face breathlessly as Blaine wedged his jeans back up his legs and around his hips and clumsily zipped him up.</p><p>“Not a word,” he pointed sternly at each of them, glaring as he stood on wobbly legs. “And you,” he snapped his fingers sharply. The resounding giggle from out of sight let him know that Blaine was precisely aware of what was in store for him. “Follow me. You’re in trouble. The rest of you do whatever the hell you want, I don’t care.”</p><p>Kurt turned and headed toward the bedroom, not surprised when he heard the scramble of Blaine clambering out from under the table and following suit not two seconds later.</p><p>As far as punishments went, Kurt was plotting to give Blaine the ride of his fucking life.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>:)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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